


Sex, Lies, and Video Games

by Greenschist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, Humor, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenschist/pseuds/Greenschist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Video games as foreplay?  Kennedy introduces Faith to a new game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex, Lies, and Video Games

**Author's Note:**

> Written years ago for the UC Ficathon on Lj for kben who requested Faith/Kennedy and video games as foreplay.

I always knew Kennedy was trouble.

The girl’s mouthy, aggressive, and could probably learn a thing or two from those anger management classes I had to take. Face it: take away her rich family and fancy schools, give the girl some quality jail time, and you got me. Way I figure it, the two of us started out as the same stuff. We were just molded into different shapes.

So, yeah, of course she’s trouble. I just didn’t realize she’d be this _much_ trouble.

You wanna know what happened to me? _Kennedy_ happened! Kennedy and that freakin’ video game…

* * *

“Play with me?”

Husky girl-voice, full of invitation. It’s something I hadn’t heard directed at me since I got my get out of jail free card, and that alone was enough to give me a bit of a tickle down low. Not all the way down low, mind you. But low enough.

I pulled the towel off my head where I was drying my hair and saw Kennedy in my doorway. Kennedy wearing a tight cropped tank, criminally short shorts, and a wicked expression. She was all subtle muscles and gold skin. I should have jumped out the window and made tracks for the next state right then.

Instead, I decided to play it cool. “Play with you? Play what? Barbie Dream House? Okay, you can be Ken, and I’ll be Barbie. Ooh, you complain about your vacation home only having one wing, and I’ll complain about not getting accepted into the Ivy League college of my choice.” Okay, I may be a tiny bit bitter that her molded shape is so much luckier than mine.

Kennedy just laughed. She leaned against the doorjamb and began twirling a lock of her hair around her fingers. When you spend 24 hours a day locked up with a bunch of women, you’ve got to develop a finely tuned gaydar. It’s important to know when another girl is flirting with you. And Kennedy was definitely flirty. It was interesting. Interesting, weird, and obvious…but still kinda flattering. No one had been flirting with me since Robin and I called it quits. The man never would admit I’m prettier than him, and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I was thinking we could play a video game,” she said, wetting her lips and making large with the eye contact. Oh, yeah. She was flirting all right. She was also delusional if she thought I was going to waste my time playing a video game. When the mayor bought me a Playstation, the thrill lasted all of a half an hour. After spending my nights battling the forces of darkness—or previously working for them—battling pixels on a TV screen is not my thing. I was surprised it was Action Girl 2003’s thing, either.

“Umm, wouldn’t Andrew be a better choice?” I wrinkled my nose at her and tried to look both cute and logical. This was me, subtly flirting back. I suck at subtlety.

“Andrew has no hand/eye coordination. And he’s off with the new recruits somewhere, probably telling them how he and the Justice League defeated Aquaman’s evil twin.” She held up one hand and began counting off on her fingers. “Dawn’s gone to the movies, and even if she was here, she sucks so bad she might as well not even have opposable thumbs. Xander has that whole issue with his perception, and anyway, he’s in Europe with Buffy and Mr. Giles trying to recover the Watcher’s Council’s assets.”

Okay, then. “Well, what about Willow? Isn’t it part of her job to keep you entertained?”

Her face went as blank as a sheet of paper. “Willow’s out.”

“Out where?”

“She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

So there it was: big storms brewing in the lesbian paradise. And here was Kennedy, stirring up more trouble. This would have been another fine moment to jump out the window and run.

But I didn’t, and Kennedy regrouped and turned on the charm again. Such as it was.

“Willow _is_ very good with her hands,” She smiled and gave me a visual once-over. Now, I’ve had more lovers—male or female—than that brat will ever have in her life. And she still managed to make me feel naked and hot with just a look.

She purred on. “I bet you’ll be good, too.” She moved to the door and smiled at me over her shoulder. “C’mon, Faith. There are lots of good games. We’ll have some fun.”

So I went with her. And that is a good example of why I ride the short bus to Slayer School.

* * *

Giles spared no expense on the home entertainment system in our temporary home. Out of his personal savings, he purchased a big screen, surround sound speakers, DVDs, a few different video game systems, and about half of Best Buy’s total supply of games. All this in an attempt to keep Andrew quiet and occupied. Believe me; it’s worth any amount of money to accomplish that.

My knowledge about video games begins and ends with Pac-Man and Motocross, so I didn’t know where to start. Andrew keeps all his games organized by genre, rating, and alphabetically by title. Kennedy and I nixed war games and flighty fantasy games. Kennedy kept up a running commentary on the games I held up, like Conker’s Bad Fur Day (“ _Hilarious._ There’s a big pile of crap that sings opera.”), and Fatal Frame 2: Crimson Butterfly (“Japanese weirdness. Andrew can’t even play that one, it’s so scary. There are these creepy twins…”).

I stopped at a game featuring kids on bicycles. “BMX XXX.”

“Crappy. It was supposed to be this shocking porno thing, but it’s just cycling past a pimp that looks like Huggie Bear and vendors selling ‘hot nut sacks’.” Her face is expressionless again, like it was upstairs. “There’s a German hot dog vendor who keeps yelling ‘Who wants my hot wiener?’” She pauses without smiling. “And it has advanced graphics so the female bikers have extra-jiggly boobs.” She swallows. “Something for everyone.”

I put the game back in its spot so Andrew wouldn’t yell at me. “You know a lot about games.”

She nodded and relaxed a bit. “I’ve been playing forever. I remember playing on my mom’s PC when I was maybe three. My favorite was 'Leisure Suit Larry in the Land of the Lounge Lizards.'”

My mouth was open. I couldn’t help it. “You’re kidding.”

She laughed. “Nope. The object was to run around and try to get this guy laid. Not really a kid’s game, but my mom gave me a lot of freedom, even then.”

Uh-huh. Sometimes “a lot of freedom” translates into not giving a damn. I figured Kennedy’s mom might be just like mine. Minus the Wild Turkey and the boyfriend who beat her up and stole our grocery money, of course. Again, I might have been experiencing a moment of slight bitterness.

“Oh, this is a great one! We’ll play this.” Not waiting for my response, she fed the disc into the machine and settled on the floor in front of the box. Was I supposed to believe that our own obsessive-compulsive Andrew stored this game three feet away from all the others and half behind the flower arrangement where Kennedy had found it? It was Kennedy’s game, and she sucked at subtlety, too.

I sat down next to her and asked, “What are we playing?”

“BloodRayne.” She fiddled with the controls. “It’s one-player action, so you can watch me for a while and then take a turn.”

There must have been 60 games in that room that could be played by two people, and she chose one that would make me sit and watch her play. I figured it must have been a real important game. Or she was just rude.

As the credits appeared on screen, she caught me looking at her. “Rayne is this half-vampire, half-human girl who works as a secret agent for the Brimstone Society. She has all the vampire powers, but none of their weaknesses. So she fights Nazis, and mutants, and these big parasite monsters.” She looked at the TV again, and her cheeks reddened. “She drains their blood. For strength points.”

“You’re a vampire slayer, and you play video games that let you be a vampire,” I responded flatly, just trying to figure it out.

A little embarrassed, maybe, she shifted and shook her head. “Rayne’s not really a vampire. And she kills bad guys.”

I shrugged and turned my attention back to the TV. I just about swallowed my tongue in surprise. A computerized Willow was jumping around the screen. Seriously. Red hair, fangs, tight black and red leather outfit…she was exactly what Willow would look like if she were a Nazi-fighting vampire. It was freakin’ disturbing.

Almost as disturbing was Kennedy’s reaction. Once the Willow-y Rayne showed up, I might as well have been wallpaper. Perched on her knees, controller in hand, she stared at the TV with a focused expression as she put the redhead through her paces. Shiny eyes, wet lips, tits starting to heave up and down with her breathing—this was obviously Kennedy’s idea of video game porn.

The game _was_ cool, I gotta admit that. Rayne was wicked sexy and wore these awesome blades on her arms to hack and slash. I wanted blades like that. She also had this harpoon knife that she’d stab her prey with and then drag them to her so she could rip some throats. Kennedy was way into it. I had never seen anyone get so turned on by a video game—not even Andrew. I could see her nipples through the white fabric of her tank shirt, and the game was really sending her. When she shifted on her heels, I swear I could smell how hot she had become.

It was time to bring her back down a little. “Willow must really like playing this game with you.”

She looked a little startled—she had half-forgotten me, see. “Yeah. She likes Sims and Age of Mythology, but she likes to play this with me. Or she did, anyway.” Turning back to the screen, she said shortly, “I think Willow’s looking to play a different game, now. I think she got bored.”

So I figured, obviously, that Willow had her eye (or maybe more) on another girl, and Kennedy got her feelings hurt. So she comes to me for either rebound sex or revenge sex. Rebound sex I really have no problem with. If the relationship’s over, why the hell not go for it if it makes you feel good? I’m not into revenge sex, however, ‘cause it could put me on the wrong end of Willow’s wand, which is a scary place to be.

“So you and Willow…” I started, seeking clarification, because I’m not stupid, you know.

“We’re done,” Kennedy answered without emotion. “She wants some guy.”

Willow wanted a _guy?_ Since Oz? I was so absorbed running through a short mental list of guys Willow could be involved with—and it _is_ short: Giles, Xander, Andrew…see? I’m done—that I didn’t even notice Kennedy passing me the controller until it was in my hand.

“I’ve been hogging it,” she purred, back in seduction mode. “It’s your turn.”

I suck at video games. I could barely make Rayne run from one place to another, much less make her stab and kick with any finesse. Kennedy knelt behind me and put her soft girly hands over mine on the controller so that she could guide me through the game. And also, so she could rub her tits against my back and whisper instructions in my ear.

I should have been more concerned about Willow. I know this.

But once we started playing the game, Kennedy got turned on again. And I got it this time, I really did. Feeling Kennedy’s soft little fingers guiding mine made me wonder what they would feel like somewhere else. Her breath was hot against my ear, and I wanted to feel it against my thighs.

It was the sword fight that drove me over the edge. Rayne began to glow with a weird light, and her strength points tripled. Kennedy moved her hands to the waistband of my shorts and whispered, “She’s in a berserker rage. It makes her strong.” I could feel her lips moving against the back of my neck. Soft, soft, little things, like tiny satin pillows.

The controller fell out of my hands and hit the carpet. Kennedy grabbed my hair and pulled my head back onto her shoulder, so she could reach my mouth. We kissed, and it was all tongues and wet heat, and I didn’t think-- couldn’t think-- about anything else for a long time. I could only feel.

 

* * *

Put your tongue back in your head, you big perv. I’m not giving you the details. If you want hot girl-on-girl action, go rent a movie. I’ve told you too much as it is.

I will say that it was good. I appreciate Willow’s appreciation for the pierced tongue. Kennedy really knows what to do with it. She’s athletic, and bendy, and really strong—gotta love that slayer strength. Her breasts are cherry-tipped, her skin tastes like apple body wash, and I was feeling no pain, busy congratulating myself on being in the right place and time for rebound sex.

Kennedy was looking sorta upset.

I sighed and decided I should be nice to her, since she did just treat me to a good, grunty time on the living room carpet. “So, Willow’s hot for some guy, huh? I’m sorry.”

Kennedy closed her eyes and looked miserable, in a JBF sort of way. “Yeah. Me too.”

I kissed her eyelids. I gave her mouth a longer, better kiss which she responded to in a half-assed way. Okay, then. “Is she with him now?”

“I don’t know!” she all but wailed. “All I know is that she’s having sex dreams about him!”

Wait a minute. “You broke up because Willow’s having sex _dreams?_ ”

“About a _guy._ ”

I was starting to get a bad feeling. “You’re not mad she was having a sex dream, just that it was about a guy?”

“She doesn’t want me! She misses being with a guy. She wants some guy named Fred!”

 _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._

So I learned too late that Kennedy is still very young, and knows crap-all about people. I learned I have the worst luck in the world, because Willow chose that moment to come home, carrying flowers and wine and probably making plans for sweet make up sex with her idiot girlfriend. Most important, I learned that when the most powerful witch in the world walks into the room, the last place you want to be is naked on top of said girlfriend with your fingers still pruney from being inside her.

Willow just stood there with her mouth open. She looked at the TV, where BloodRayne was still playing, down to Kennedy, who was wearing nothing but a defiant expression, and over to me. I think I was wearing my I’m-gonna-puke expression. Her eyes went black. I scrambled to get out of the way as she shouted something like, _“kirbious transformaticus.”_

The spell hit me like a one-ton safe, and it was game over.

* * *

So that’s how I ended up like this.

I was out for about 24 hours, and by the time I woke up, the lovebirds had already made up and flown the coop. Andrew and Dawn yelled at her, but Willow would not remove the spell. She said it would teach me a lesson about taking advantage of people and keeping my hands to myself.

I say this would be a more valuable lesson if I freaking _had_ hands! Or knees! But I don’t—just these stumpy arms and giant red shoes. Look at me! I’m completely round! And pink! I had to bounce and roll my way to Los Angeles, because I won’t fit on a bus!

The bitch turned me into fuckin' Kirby.

It’s gonna wear off eventually, but that’s not good enough. I want it gone now. Can you help me, Wes? Can you break the spell?

Damnit, Wesley! Stop laughing!


End file.
